On Initial Conditions
by Kleiomuse
Summary: "In chaos theory, the butterfly effect is the sensitive dependence on initial conditions." Small coincidences in Rukia's life accumulate to bring her to a precipice that touches on four different boys. RukiaxHarem. AU.
1. Chapter 1: Run

_A/N: For readers, here's the wikipedia paragraph that permeates the story: In chaos theory, the **butterfly effect** is the _sensitive dependence on initial conditions_; where a small change at one place in a nonlinear system can result in large differences to a later state. _

_The picture that also launched a thousand ships (metaphorically speaking of course; in my case, it was what started this) was that of Rukia with the six protagonists in the story, all of whom were in school uniforms. It was just so adorable that I had to write this._

_There are several themes to this story, but the poem in the first paragraph is a homage to different literary pieces that tout the main theme, that of the Butterfly Effect. Squint and you may also find other cultural references scattered throughout the story. _

_This is dedicated to MangKulas and breadsticks, who taught me that writing fanfic is as enjoyable as reading them._

_Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach. If I did, then it wouldn't be Bleach in the first place. Now go pester some other poor bloke._

_1010101010101010_

_A shy butterfly flaps its wings, and chaos ensues;_

_A thrown pebble ripples in a pond, and time diverges;_

_A music box plays, and tragedy follows;_

_A black pendulum swings, and worlds crumble._

_1010101010101010_

...one…

Hitsugaya stepped through the arched gateway to the Karakura Academy, school bag in hand and indifferent to the impersonal opulence unfolding before him. _Another boring day_, he thought. He went over the advanced classes and assignments he had for the day, barely noticing the sound of running feet behind him. Twenty minutes later he would be paying more attention to those sounds.

…two…

Byakuya picked up his cellphone while weaving through traffic on his way to school, his other hand gripping the wheel of his car. Jushiro looked out the window of the passenger seat. "This is Byakuya Kuchiki."

He listened for a few seconds and his normally stoic features seemed to glaciate even more. "I understand, I will look for her then." He turned off his phone and proceeded with his drive to Karakura Academy, as aloof as always. Thirty five minutes later his expression would be changing slightly to one of exasperation - and something else that he would not define.

…three…

Renji kicked a Coke can littering the street and accidentally hit a stray black cat with it. He immediately felt chagrined when the cat hissed back angrily, and would have picked it up to soothe it if he hadn't caught Shuhei's smirk at him. _Damn fool, he would think I'm going soft_. He made a disgruntled sound and walked ahead of his sparring partner instead.

He looked over his shoulder to glare at him, when he noticed the cat following them. _The little git is stalking me?_ Shuhei saw the cat too and started sniggering, probably amused that two strays were coming together.

They were both so preoccupied with the latest addition to their small group that they did not notice the Coke can rolling down the road, or the blur of a pale, shapely leg. Forty two minutes later, in Karakura Academy, they would be glaring at each other over a different feline.

…four…

Ichigo scowled at the painted ivory skull mask in his hand, wondering who on earth ever came up with the idea of Masque Balls. His other hand held onto his coffee cup and bag, juggling both items precariously.

_Che, old goat face should never have found out about that Karakura Academy event_, he silently fumed. His father corralled Yuzu and Karin to make the mask for him, effectively forcing him to go to the ball, or else suffer his sisters' cries of disappointment.

Seventeen months, and he still hasn't made any friends in the posh school his father enrolled him in. That was probably why his father, in his usual over-the-top way, was pushing Ichigo to go to a social event. If anything, his trademark scowl deepened even more. _This is why I need to keep some secrets from adults._

However, instead of an overly excitable father, it was his uncertain grip on his coffee cup that was his eventual undoing. _Shit!_ He watched aghast as the coffee spilled out like pouring rain, like a torrent, on a petite figure that happened to come by at the wrong moment. Through the shock and embarrassment, he glimpsed violet irises widening, and then constricting in annoyance. Nearly an hour later, he would be violently keeping himself from drowning in its depths.

_1010101010101010_

One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four. The symphony started up, and Rukia danced. Tomorrow, she would be going to Karakura Academy. In a corner of her room, opened and barely read, was her Math textbook. The book was open on The Theory of Numbers and Probability.

"Rukia, shouldn't you be studying?" A slim figure stood by the door, glasses shielding her eyes and book adorning her hands.

Rukia sighed and stopped. "Nanao, I know. It's just-" _This is my last day before my transfer_, she wanted to say. But of course, she was trained to keep from voicing her wishes like that. Instead she kept them to herself, and walked quietly over to her book.

Nanao knew what she wanted to say, however. _Shunsui, I will definitely hit you with that etiquette book next time_. "You will also like it there. We sent you for a visit one time, remember? You were so young then, but I'm sure you remember."

Rukia did not want to disappoint Nanao by telling her that she had no memories of visiting the school. All her memories were of the Gotei Boarding School she was presently attending. _No, not presently any more_. She reined in the sigh that threatened to escape her yet again, and smiled at her senior. "I'm sure I'll like it there. Thank you for your concern, Nanao."

It was a clear dismissal. Nanao's lips twitched in a smile. Although Rukia would never admit to it, her demeanor had always been graced with an air of nobility so highly prized by the aristocratic family that adopted her. _Adopted and then abandoned_, she silently fumed. It took years and careful approaches to finally break down the barriers Rukia had set up, and even then, she was still as wary as a doe in guarding her emotions. Nanao knew it was thanks in large part to the incident with that damned Kaien.

She closed the door to Rukia's room behind her, and walked back to her own room. The image of Rukia dancing stayed with her, though, entranced as before with her hauntingly beautiful form. _That reminds me_, she thought, _I need to ask Dr. Ishida whether he can get his designer son to create a couture dress for Rukia for that Karakura Masque Ball_.

_1010101010101010_

"Whaaaaaaat? Karakura has a masque ball? That damnable son of mine didn't even tell me!" Isshin was crying hysterically at one corner, going on and on about inconsiderate offsprings.

Ryuken couldn't really care. He just wanted the substitute doctor out of his hospital as soon as possible. Even the slight irritation he felt that the man was eavesdropping on his private phone call with Nanao Ise was eclipsed by his driving urge to shoot something at the noisy former classmate. "Once you have stopped your tantrum, you can start finishing up on your rounds." _And leaving me the hell alone and in peace._

"Aaaaaawww, Ryuken, it's been a while and you're still the grump that you were in high school. What, not getting any?"

A nerve started to twitch in Ryuken's brow. "If you really want your son to adjust to school life more, maybe you could get him to attend this ball?" _And hopefully keep you busy enough that you stop pestering me_.

"Gasp! What a splendid idea!" _Wait, did he actually say the word gasp?_ "Ryuken, my bestest buddy, you are just sooo smart aren't you? ~~~"

"Kurosaki, if you do NOT unhand me this very minute, I will shoot you with my crossbow."

"What, are you getting a hard-on with me hugging you?"

"KUROSAKI!"

"What, what? You're the one who came up with all these penetration images!"

_1010101010101010_

Rukia was slightly annoyed. _He could have at least waited for the news_. Her (adoptive) brother had already left the house, without knowing that she has finally come to the manor house to stay and live with them. Her Grandfather Ginrei was apologetic that Byakuya had been busy as the school council president, and was hardly ever at the house. _I'm sorry, Rukia, he had to go pick up his co-councillor for a school meeting. I can call him for you so that he can pick you up._

She had arrived in the town of Karakura late the night before, exhausted from studying her books. Because of this, she was not able to greet Byakuya properly, or to let him know that the family had decided to enroll her in his school. _Hmp, he probably won't notice even if I did tell him_. All she remembered of him was a feeling of coldness, glacial eyes that briefly looked down on her small form, and never looked again.

That memory of ice prompted Rukia to decline Ginrei's offer, and opted to walk to her new school instead. She was crossing the street when she noticed a car zooming in her direction, the dark-haired driver on the phone, and the white-haired passenger glancing at her.

_He looks familiar_, she thought. She yelped when she realized she was standing in the middle of the street, about to be run over, and had to quickly dodge to the side of the street. _Of all the impertinent, obnoxious-_

Her train of thought was cut off as scalding hot coffee poured down on her NEW AND PRISTINE uniform.

"Eeeeeek, look at what you've done!"

"Hey, midget, it wasn't my fault! YOU were the one who jumped and bumped into me!"

"Excuse me? You arrogant, selfish ass!" Rukia couldn't help it. The previous sleepless night, the morning's debacle, the stress of going to a new school, and now _this_. It was all too much. In a move that was completely out of character for the well-bred noble, but was reminiscent of a cackling child running in the streets, her leg flashed and kicked him in the shin.

"Owwwww! Why you little-"

Blood pounding in her head, she smirked at him and ran heedlessly through the streets, narrowly avoiding his reach. She looked back at him and saw him pursuing her with a maniacal grin. _Huh, he's fast_.

She turned a corner and - too late! - saw a Coke can rolling in her direction. She tripped over the offending object and skidded to a stop, right on top of a red-headed tattooed guy.

"What the hell-" The guy turned to her and stopped breathing for a moment, eyes widening for a fraction.

"Oi! Get your hands off her! That midget needs spanking but you pervert shouldn't be groping women!"

"What the fuck are you talking about, _boy_. Say groping again and I'm gonna pummel some respect into your head!"

"….er, Renji, the girl you were groping just ran away."

"….Oi! Shuhei, why didn't you stop her! Come on, man, I think I know her!"

"Hey, what the f-, don't grab me by the collar!"

Rukia snorted in mid-laugh as she looked behind her. Now there were two men running after her, one being dragged along, and a cat - of all things! - running and nipping at all their heels. The years of careful masquerade were slowly and inexorably stripped from her at that point, an exhilaration spreading from her stomach to her throat, while her fast lithe legs ran down the street. _This is fun_.

She was at the school gates when she saw a car parked in front, with a white-haired man standing beside it, his back to her, carrying a painting and some packages. Years of dancing gave her the reflexes to do a quick pirouette and avoid him-

-only to fall right in the arms of a man with long dark hair and smoky gray eyes. _Oh, God, he must be the most handsome man I've ever seen_. His arms tightened around her, and she saw his features constrict with a remembered longing.

"Hey you! Hold on to that girl, we need to talk to her!"

"Are you talking to me, you _plebeian_?"

"Oh, Byakuya, your new girlfriend just left, did you-"

The squabbling voices receded in the background for Rukia as she fled from the scene. Her heart was violently thumping beneath her ribcage, threatening to burst out. She could not understand why, nor did she want to dwell on it.

Instead she ran, relishing the rare freedom granted to her.

_Almost there_, she thought. To a world of regimented rules, constricting etiquette, and harsh realities. To a world where she could not kick a person with impunity, dazzle a stranger with an impish grin, or fall in the arms of a prince.

She saw a white-haired boy walking slowly ahead of her, and the last vestiges of the breathy abandonment she experienced in the last half hour pushed her to do a remarkable, outrageous thing. She abruptly stopped, hooked an arm through his, and whispered. "You don't mind if I walk with you, do you?"

He looked at her with disbelief and not a little surprise. "Excuse me?"

"Those boys behind me seem to be a trifle upset with me, and I just figure you're the type that likes to protect people," she said impishly. _Ah, well, in the last hour, I had been manhandled by three different men, I might as well initiate it this time_.

"Did you do something to them?" he asked with a decidedly untrusting look.

"Little ol' me?" her eyes widened with the ease of a practiced actress.

He must have seen through it, though, since he snorted with disdain. However, whether he believed her or not, he spun around to look contemptuously down (which was not easy given his height) on the three - no, five - men that were right behind them. "And who the hell are you people?"

"Oi, oi, you little shrimp. Don't you dare back talk to me! Give over that girl right now, she just kicked m-"

"You fucking jerk! Don't go around harassing girls!"

"Listen, you redhead freak of nature, you were the one groping her a minute ago!"

"Well, he is right, Renji-"

"Look who's talking! YOU are the freak of nature, you orange-haired bastard!"

"If the three of you are quite finished I would like SOME explanation as to why three of you lowly plebes dared to assault me!"

"Eh, Byakuya, they didn't really-"

"ENOUGH!" the young white-haired boy screeched. _Damn hormones, still can't get this voice to keep from spiking to an un-adult-like falsetto_. "I need one of you to explain everything, and to explain it NOW!"

"I agree, Hitsugaya." The voice came melodiously from a new figure, square glasses framing brown gentle eyes. Another figure, slim and snake-eyed, was waving enthusiastically from behind him.

"Aizen-senpai, I was just-"

"Let me see now, I think Principal Yamamoto may just want to talk to all of you to hear this explanation you're after." He smiled at all of them, without humor or kindness softening the smile. "I'm sure he can find some time for you."

Which was why, thirteen minutes later, they were all waiting in the lounge room to talk to the most feared principal in the history of Karakura Academy.

_1010101010101010_

Toushiro was waiting in the teacher's lounge for the first time in his exemplary school life. It looked like a train station, with three sets of back-to-back couches arranged in the middle. He was sitting on the first one, right next to another white-haired man. _And why does he keep mentioning our hair color?_ In front of him were the three boys that he was coldly glaring at - _and they are certainly glaring right back_ - as being the source of the problem. _Mr. Strawberry, Mr. Pineapple, and Mr. Noble_, he seethed. Another guy, with a 69 tattoo on his face, had his back on all of them, quietly muttering about how he was dragged to this whole mess.

However, he couldn't help but try to keep an ear out for the petite girl that had so taken him unawares. She had the biggest, most lavender eyes he could imagine. And he could not name the emotion that was warming him from the inside. Soon, he heard her dainty footsteps coming into the room. _They almost sound like a forgotten beat_, he thought. One, two, three, four…

_1010101010101010_

Byakuya could not help but be exasperated. He should not have been here. He was the School Council President. He was a Kuchiki. He was definitely NOT someone that needed to see the principal. But here he was, nevertheless, waiting to be castigated for breaking the rules.

_At least Jushiro seems to be taking everything in stride_, he thought with a certain degree of resentment. His friend was smiling as if he found something extremely funny. In a corner of his mind, however, he vehemently avoided the fact that he had held on to the girl longer than necessary. _She is nothing_, he thought, and yet again and again he replayed her softness in his arms, the hitch in her breath, and the sound her heart made against his chest. One, two, three, four…

_1010101010101010_

Renji was glaring daggers at Shuhei, and he was throwing them right back at him, which was no mean feat considering they were sitting with their backs against each other. _You know he's upset because he only gets in trouble because of you_, a secret part of him whispered. _Che, it was his own fault, he should have helped me to catch her._

His thoughts went back to a buried memory, of stolen water and stolen moments. _It has to be her_, he thought. _I've been waiting for years to show her what I've become_. His face turned towards the door as it opened, admitting the girl that had been haunting his dreams for the past ten years. Inexplicably, he heard a ringing in his ears, challenging him to remember, to hold on. One, two, three, four…

_1010101010101010_

Ichigo was vainly trying to rein in his legendary temper. He had gingerly placed the mask his sisters made (_can't have it break_) and had then proceeded to go over the entire episode. _Why the hell was I even running after her? It was just a stupid kick!_ He couldn't come up with an answer. He didn't even want to recall that sudden twinge he had felt in his chest, when she had first turned to him, and he saw her for the first time. _Kinda like a sword through his heart_, he mused.

He looked at her as she came in, stealing the light from the room with a single, careless smile. He couldn't help it. Like the goddess Artemis, the white moon that reflected the sun's light, she sparkled with a radiance that whispered of The Hunt. _The Hunt for what_, he wondered? Of power, of friendship, of soul-searing loneliness. _You will never need to be alone_, he thought. And the look in her eyes answered something within him that lit a fire underneath his skin, tolling a bell of portents. One, two, three, four…

_1010101010101010_

Rukia saw all six boys in varying degrees of disquiet, and couldn't help but smile.

"Oooh! A kitty!" She jumped to the couch, in the gap between the orange-haired and the red-headed boy, and cooed at the black cat perched on the end of the couch. It mewled prettily at her.

"Okay, say cheese! One, two, three…"

_click_

A flash went out, and all seven pairs of eyes were looking at a small boy, disheveled and apologetic, with a camera, standing by the door. Even the cat was glaring at him.

"Oi, Hanataro, I hope that picture isn't for the Seiretei Communications school paper," muttered the boy with the bandage on his nose. "Coz if it is, since I'm the editor, I'm definitely pushing it to the trash pile."

"Eh hehehe, Hisagi-senpai, I thought this was news, what with Rukia Kuchiki being involved and all."

Silence blanketed the room.

Seven seconds later, cacophony ensued.

"You're Rukia? Byakuya's sister?"

"She is my _adopted_ sister, Jushiro."

"I knew it! You're the one in Inuzuri when I was a kid!"

"You're _the_ Kuchiki dancer? The one Matsumoto was going on and on about?"

"Oh fuck, did I just get involved with a dispute between nobles? Oh shit, Tousen-senpai is sooo going to be mad!"

"WHAT THE FUCK is everyone talking about! She's just a midget that kicked me!"

MEOW!

_1010101010101010_

Hanataro closed the door behind him, trembling and afraid for the pretty girl in the midst of it all. _She looked so nice, should I have gone and helped her escape?_

He didn't know it at the time, but the whole world he knew would change because of that girl.


	2. Chapter 2: Clock

_A/N: Shared experiences form the basis for bonds (a recurring theme in current Bleach arc). And the most common, widely available source for shared experiences is media. For Bleach fans, reading the manga allows us to laugh and cry together, however different our backgrounds may be. The chapter below uses another cultural trope from a tv show episode of How I Met Your Mother.__ It involved the concept of time going too fast (when Barney and Robin hooked up), and then crawling to an agonizing stop (when Robin rejects Barney with a shake of her head).__ I thought this was particularly fitting for this chapter, since it provides an indication of the point in time in each protagonist's life that prevents them from moving forward. Again, I used the theme of minor actions/incidents, be they coincidence or fate, that brought them to this point in time. Future chapters should (hopefully) elaborate more on experiences they would share with each other to allow them to push forward._

-start-

Tick tick tick...

"Forty two."

"Eh? Hisagi-senpai, that's such an arbitrary number!"

Shuhei tried to keep the hysteria from bleeding over to his voice. "Hanataro, that was NOT a random number I just pulled out of my ass. You have forty two minutes to turn in your article on the new transfer student, Rukia Kuchiki. Now I suggest you get GOING!" _Ok, so the hysteria still came out_.

He frantically ran through the rest of the pieces that were going into the latest edition of Karakura Academy's school paper, all the while turning his head to look at the clock on the wall.

_C'mon, c'mon_, he thought, glaring at the manic Hanataro typing feverishly on his laptop. _As it is, I hardly have any time to edit his section!_

He seethed with growing frustration when he thought of the entire morning wasted by having to explain to Principal Yamamoto why he and six other students - and a cat! - caused such an embarrassing ruckus. The old man was practically frothing in the mouth at the number of rules that were broken.

_(No fighting! No loud noises! No running! No pets! And absolutely no groping! Yes, I'm looking at you, Eyebrow!)_

He furiously tapped his pen against the desk. As much as he dwelled on the incident, his mind shied away from the punishment they all received from the principal. _I should never have missed that bus this morning, then I wouldn't have been walking with Renji into this whole mess!_

He heard the clickety-clack from Hanataro's typing cease for a moment. "Oi, oi! time's going by fast! You better not-"

-stop-

Tick tick tick...

"Six."

Isshin breathed in the smoke from his yearly cigarette, and exhaled it slowly, deliberately. He looked down at his wife's grave, the setting sun stealing the warmth from his back.

"Yeah, that's right. It's been six years since you died, Masaki." He turned his head to the side, making sure that the three kids were well away and oblivious of this moment.

He rubbed the back of his head with his free hand. "Ichigo still can't forgive himself, you know. He thinks that robber would have left the two of you alone if you hadn't gone through that alley." He sighed.

_(Mama, I wanna watch Zorro!_

_Oh, honey, just this one time, ok? We're gonna be late meeting up with Papa and the girls, so we'd have to take a shortcut.)_

"The years have flown by so fast, but our boy still hasn't moved on from that spot." He took another drag from the slowly burning cigarette. "I'm moving him to a different school, Masaki. That Karakura Academy that Ryuken was prattling on about."

He bowed his head, the shadows barely obscuring the slight smile that touched his face, humorless but not without a father's kindness. "I think his old school is just too filled with memories."

He flicked the cigarette butt away from him, its ember nearing the end.

A mad glint twinkled in his eye. "Aha! I know! I'll put up a giant poster of you in his room, the one where you were giving birth to him! A graphic blow-up of your you-know-what should give him some-"

-pause-

Tick tick tick...

"Eight."

Jushiro surreptitiously glanced at Byakuya. "You were a young boy then, too young really to remember a brief encounter with a girl that was just adopted into your family."

His friend turned his head away, impersonal and distant as always. Jushiro kept from making any sounds. He knew Byakuya will not appreciate pity from anyone. One of the vagaries of being a noble is to never give in to your emotions, he knew.

And yet there was something behind Byakuya's eyes when he looked at that girl.

"Still, she really is quite a beauty. Shuhei's article came out only yesterday and she's already getting famous around school." Still no reply from his fellow noble. _Time to see if I'm right_.

"I must say, she looks remarkably similar to that girl you met by chance, what was her name? Hisana?"

He had taken a few steps before he realized Byakuya had come to a-

-halt-

Tick tick tick...

Ten.

He was taught at a very young age to count to ten first if he ever needed to lash out at someone. He was a Kuchiki. _We never give in to needless emotions_.

Undaunted, his thoughts went back to their first meeting. _She was so small then_, Byakuya recalled, _like a porcelain doll_. But, like the highly-prized china that they had in their house, she was hardier than you would expect, tempered.

_(she had turned her head up to him, eyes as big as violet saucers, incandescent smile brightening up her features)_

They were playing hide-and-seek in the cherry blossom garden. There were no nobles or sisters or rules that time. Just two young children playing. He had never been happier.

_(she will be your sister, it is not appropriate for you to touch her like that)_

While trying to look for her, he had nearly fallen into a hole, but she had pulled him up, hurting herself in the process. Yet she didn't cry at all. He carried her then back to the house, and asked for her forgiveness. Only to meet the disapproval from their elders.

_(I do not want her as my sister)_

He heard Jushiro comparing her to Hisana. The words came unbidden to his thoughts, but locked from his tongue. _No, Jushiro, it was Hisana that looked like her._

Yet he continued walking, unable or unwilling to be-

-still-

Tick tick tick...

Twenty one.

It was believed to be the weight of a soul. A body that breathed its last lost 21 grams of mass. The quantitative equivalent of an entire lifetime.

Toushiro gripped Momo's unmoving hand, screaming out his rage, his helplessness, his grief.

_(she had an allergic reaction to Versed! Why didn't we have the other type?)_

His governess Matsumoto was screaming at him, holding him back, but he couldn't hear her, couldn't hear her over his own agony.

_(Why the hell would we run out of that anesthesia? This is a litigation waiting to happen!)_

His grandmother couldn't look at him anymore. She had long ago turned her head away from him, unable to penetrate the world of grief he encased himself in.

_(We didn't get the delivery yesterday! I don't know what happened!)_

But these were all minor details, small interruptions. The only sound roaring in his ears was his anguish, the only image burned in his eyes was her still face, the only sense left to him was her cold, cold hand, as if it was-

-frozen-

Tick tick tick...

"Thirteen."

Renji looked at the person who spoke to him, one foot ready to run. This was Inuzuri, after all.

However, all he saw was a scrawny girl with eyes too large and too lost in her face. "Whaddaya sayin'?"

"That's the number of times I've seen you go around here today. You're after that man's water." She peered at him through long eyelashes. "And you talk funny."

"N-no I ai'nt!" he spluttered, offended and confused at the same time.

She snorted and lifted a delicate shoulder in a shrug. "It doesn't matter, just don't steal from that man. He's already hurt three other boys. I'll bring you some water, and maybe some food, everyday at this spot. I get them from this shady candy store owner all the time."

Renji's eyebrows steadily climbed to his hairline with each word she prattled, until he couldn't help himself anymore. "Why da hell wouldja help me?"

She turned her head away, unable to meet his eyes. "I don't know. Do you need a reason to help someone?" It was then that he saw her smile for the first time, the lavender flecks in her eyes coming into prominence. "I promise I'll be here to meet you everyday."

Rukia was true to her word. For the next two weeks, she shared her cache of water with him. It was Renji who stopped coming.

He had looked for a job, so that she didn't have to share with him anymore. By the time he found one, running errands for a tattoo place, she was gone.

He has never stopped looking for her. He drove himself to excel, in work, in sports, going so far as to get an athletic scholarship, in the hopes that he can climb the heights, and from that lofty perch, be able to get a glimpse of her, to finally tell her to-

-stay-

Tick tick tick...

She heard the clock ticking, and scanned the doorway impatiently.

"Hmp. You're only fifteen. What do you know about love?"

Rukia looked back at Nanao, raising an eyebrow at what she said. "Nanao, who said I was in love?"

She heard her senior make an un-lady-like snort. "You may not say it out loud, but it's pretty obvious the way you make googly eyes at him all the time he comes for your private lessons."

She did not deign to comment. Instead, she continued her vigil of the door. Kaien had told her he would take her out to town as a reward for mastering the difficult Black Swan set. He was running a little late.

"Besides, he's married," she heard Nanao mutter under her breath, at the same time she saw Kaien come in, his wife Miyako in tow.

"I'm really sorry I was late, Rukia." They were walking along a busy street in the town center, enjoying ice cream cones.

"It was nothing, Kaien-sensei. What happened, anyway?"

He scratched the back of his head. "Aaah, an old friend from the Ukitake family chatted me up. Apparently some story is making the rounds about the hottest highschool student around." He chuckled, and then threw her a rolled-up paper. "Guess who it is?"

She read the paper - the Seiretei Communications - and saw a picture of Byakuya on the front page. She folded it back and tucked it under her arm. "That man has never really looked at me."

Kaien quickly glanced at her, a cloud darkening his features. They walked on quietly after that.

"Aaaargh! This mood is too heavy! C'mon Rukia, let's go drive to the beach instead!"

She looked up at him in alarm. "You can't just decide that impulsively."

"Why not? I heard there's a tattoo festival going on there. Besides, walking around here isn't that great anyway. Crime rate's going through the roof! I even heard of a mom a few years ago who got shot right in front of her kid!"

"My tactless husband does have a great idea, Rukia," Miyako said from behind them. "My car is just round the corner. We should all fit, even with all the boxes I have in there."

"Tactless! You call me tactless, when all I was doing was laying it out for our little Rukia here? Oi, woman, I won't accept that from a drug peddler like you!"

"Kaien, sweetheart, those drugs I'm delivering save lives. You, on the other hand, are corrupting Rukia with all this gloomy talk of death."

Rukia giggled quietly at Kaien spluttering at his wife's gentle and good-natured chiding. _They are so perfect for each other. I wonder when will I-?_

"Kaien-sensei, I really do not wish to intrude on you and Miyako anymore. I've had a lovely time already, and the day's gone by so fast. I will just see you again tomorrow."

He stopped his melodramatics and looked intently at her. "Are you sure?"

She smiled at him. "Of course. Both of you should go on to the beach. The water should calm you down somewhat."

He smiled back at her, gentle eyes understanding more than he was letting on. "Okay, if that's what you want."

She walked on ahead alone. The street came into focus for her, the people and the cars sharper, as she stopped and waited by a traffic light to cross the road.

She turned her head to the right. Kaien and Miyako had just gotten into the car.

She turned her head to the left. A bus was coming down the road towards her.

Right. Kaien started up the car and looked at Miyako.

Left. The light started to turn red, and the bus sped up to catch it.

Right. Miyako said something, and Kaien laughed with her.

Left. A sound like a screeching monster exploded, the bus' front tire shredded.

Right. Kaien looked back at her to wave.

Left. The bus spun out of control.

Her head turned. Right. Left. Right. Left. Like a parody of a denial. Like an appeal to wake up. Like a rejection of fate.

Rukia opened her mouth to scream, as she watched the bus and the car-

-crash-


	3. Chapter 3: Mask

_AN: A simple example of the butterfly effect, according to Wikipedia, is of a ball placed on the crest of a hill, which can roll into any of several valleys, depending on the slight differences in the ball's initial placement. In the first chapter, you could say that the ball is placed on the hill, with Rukia meeting the other protagonists. In the second chapter, a description of the ball is given, with the introduction of the protagonists' backgrounds. In the following chapter, the ball now wobbles, and starts rolling down the hill._

_Disclaimer: The plot devices mentioned are real, google them if you want. The statistics, not so much._

* * *

><p>The Greensleeves music box tone chimed through the school halls, prompting Rukia to frown down at her phone. <em>It's time<em>.

"You're the transfer student."

Rukia looked up, and saw eight figures lounging in front of her in varying degrees of belligerence. The one who apparently spoke, however, was standing in the middle, a girl with glasses, long braid trailing her back, and a book clutched in her hand. "I'm sorry? Do I know you? And why are you blocking my way?"

Ms. Glasses languidly waved a finger behind her as she retorted in response, "Hiyori's here (a short blond girl), 'coz she's torturing Shinji (a smirking blond man), who's bored, and so he dragged Kensei (an athletic-looking guy), who's of course always trailed by Mashiro (a flighty-looking girl with green hair), into asking Hachigen for money (a large, kindly-looking man) who tried to escape by running to Rose (a blond effeminate), who in turn was chatting with Love (a guy with a spiked afro), who's currently hassling me for my latest manga."

Rukia blinked twice as she tried to sort out the long introduction. "So basically, they're all here because of you? And you are?"

"Lisa Yadomaru. And I'm here because of two reasons. I gave you the first one already."

Blink. Blink. "Okaaay, what does me being a transfer student have anything to do with you? And how did you know?"

At this, the guy Shinji spoke up from his position by the wall. "Oh, Hisagi came out with the story this morning in the Seiretei Communications. He even has a picture of you." He walked towards her with a slight smile, and slowly looked her over. "Totally cute, by the way, you are definitely my first love!"

A shoe came flying out of nowhere to hit him square in the jaw. Rukia, however, was already ignoring Shinji's cries of protest (_owww, dammit, Hiyori, that hurt!_), or Hiyori's disgruntled sounds of outrage (_you fuckin' pervert, you do that to all the girls!_). Instead, she turned to face Lisa, and raised a cold Kuchiki eyebrow.

The girl Lisa, however, was still silently studying her. It was Love who brashly spoke up. "Don't you know anything? The transfer student in any manga is always the plot clincher! I can't even count the number of times manga heroes could have avoided all fan wank by just getting it on already with the new transfer student!"

Blink. Blink. "I'm sorry," _dammit, why do I keep apologizing to these people?_ "did you just say manga?"

"Yes! I'm not talking about the perverted shit that Lisa reads," (_shut the fuck up, Love, you like my hentai manga too!_) "I'm talking about the most common plot device used in 61% of all manga." At this, he poses dramatically, and extends a hand towards Rukia, mimicking a salesman showcasing his latest item. "The transfer student is introduced, is revealed to have connections with students, and is shown to eventually change those students' lives."

Lisa casually shoved a hand in Love's face to push him back, and positioned herself near Rukia. "Puhlease don't start with that. There's really only one trope in shounen that anyone needs to know. Two words." She held up two fingers of her hand in front of Rukia's face. "Power Ups. Otherwise, it's all boring and all the good plot devices are stolen from shoujo."

"It is so NOT true!" wailed Love. "There's the recurrence of the number Four, for instance. The four team members, the four most powerful beings, what have you! The Indestructible Hair, the Child Prodigy, the Insanely Powerful Villain, the Hero that receives powers from a magical baby/hitman baby/hot babe!"

"Like I said," Lisa eyed Love disdainfully, "boooring."

"Oh, and did I forget to mention the Perverted Character that always seems to read hentai manga?"

Everyone blinked as they turned and looked at Lisa. She, however, just rolled her eyes and waved a hand at them. "Whatever, you know you guys are just as curious to read 'em. Let me know sometime, I can lend them to you." She smirked, and said, "just remember not to get them dirty."

Amidst the cries of _eeeew gross_, or _that is sooo rated M_, and _thank god she doesn't write fanfics_, Rukia raised an eyebrow, and mildly asked, "so, because of some laws of manga physics, you think that I would have some effect on your lives because I'm the new transfer student?"

"Aaah, Ms. Rukia, I do hope you forgive my associates, they are just a bit enamored of you," the boy they called Rose said, in an almost singsong feminine voice. "In one fell swoop, you did exhibit a lot of the common plot devices showcased by many-" he nodded to Lisa, "-_shoujo_ manga."

"Exactly!" exclaimed Lisa. She breathed in deep, and in a staccato voice, started firing off rapidly, "you bumped into Kurosaki, that's Hero-Heroine Collision (74% occurrences in manga), you failed to notice Abarai making googly eyes –and hands!– at you, Heroine Lacks Clue (a whopping 87%), AND you were rescued by Kuchiki from a fall, that right there earned three tropes, Totally Cool Guy Falls For Clumsy Girl (56%), Someone Is Famous (39%), and the We're Not Siblings After All (43%), and –Oh!– of course I can't forget how you sidled up to Hitsugaya, for a pretty good Last Minute Rescue (yup, 64%), and if you had just been a little bit bolder, you could have had the Kiss From A Stranger with him (29%)."

The blush had been slowly creeping up Rukia's cheeks throughout the whole spiel, but at the mention of a kiss, it became a full-blown flame. "Er, I think you are mistak-"

Lisa didn't seem to notice her weak objections, however, and instead just took another breath to start once again. "You come from a boarding school, that's Parents Conveniently Absent (83% occurrences), you had a thing with your tutor, Student-Teacher Relationships (65%), and with those eyes and that face, you're definitely a Bishoujo (all manga) that if you ever Cross-Dress (69%), you can pass off as a Bishounen (88% - it ain't equal opportunity)."

As Lisa wheezed to get air back into her lungs, the rotund man Hachigen whispered modestly, while looking at his hands clasped together, "umm, Lisa, you forgot all the common Background Scenes, the School Rooftop, the Park Swing, the Hot Springs, or even the Temporal devices, like Valentines, or School Dan-"

"No I didn't," she retorted back, "those would probably happen later on in the story. Just like the Declaration of Love Through Handmade Item, the Soda/Coffee/Juice Box Peace Offering, and of course, the First Kiss."

"Enough!" The blush on Rukia's face had reached disproportionate temperatures already that she was afraid she'd burst her head (Manga Laws of Physics #3, Character Heads and Faces Can and Will Transform in the Weirdest Ways). "This is real life you know. This isn't manga."

Lisa only smirked at her. "Sure it is, kid. It's all one great big manga. You just get to pick your genre." She ignored the heated whispers from behind her _(-did she just steal that from a movie? -what movie? -oh, she is sooo going to get purged for plagiarizing)_, and added, "that's the best thing about reading them, you get a How-To, a game-FAQ, a WalkThrough, on how to be you."

Rukia snapped an arm up as Lisa threw something at her. When she looked at the item in her hand, it was a manga tankobon.

"Read it, you might learn something from it."

She looked up at the weird group again, who had, as one, turned their backs on her and were headed in the opposite direction. "Wait! You said you had two reasons why you talked to me."

At this, Lisa stopped, and, without looking back, said in a flat voice that Rukia instinctively knew she only rarely used, "I wanted to see Kyoraku's latest girl."

Blink. Blink.

Lisa then threw her a look over her shoulder, and said with a lopsided smile, "tell him I said hi."

The group then moved on beyond her sight, and later, her understanding.

The Greensleeves music box tone chimed through the school halls, earning a sigh from Rukia as she frowned down at her phone. _I'm going to be late_.

1010101010101010

She briskly walked towards the main stairs, briefly confused in the maze of Karakura Academy, and fleetingly reminded of a room filled with stairs that went every which way and defied gravity. _At this rate, I'll never find the room in time_.

Third Dance Room.

Rukia checked the room number again, to make sure she had it right. She breathed in, mentally preparing herself, and opened the door.

It was a spacious place, with couches scattered on one side of the wall, presumably to allow spectators room to ooh and aah over the latest offering. There were six figures in the room, in varying degrees of barely suppressed animosity, disguised as nonchalance.

Byakuya, pristine and graceful, was the only one sitting, king-like in both countenance and position. He was attended by his friend, Jushiro, who stood by his side with a clipboard in hand. Ichigo and Renji faced each other in one corner by the window, twin expressions of testosterone-driven irritation. Shuhei stood as far away from everyone as he could get, distancing and cloaking himself in silence to avoid getting entangled in the others' squabbles. Toushiro, youthful and mature at the same time, was the only one who seemed to have listened for her approach, and was turned to face her as she came in.

"Ahem." Rukia cleared her throat to get everyone's attention. "Time for Principal Yamamoto's punishment, then. So how _are_ we supposed to plan out the entertainment for the Masque Ball tonight?"

Ichigo smirked. "Just make sure you don't get Pervy Pineapple here anywhere near the girls, or you'll get a sexual harassment lawsuit."

"Oi! Oi! I already punched Shuhei here for printing out that Beware Predator ad of me in the Seiretei Communications. I can do the same for you as well!"

Shuhei glanced back at his friend. "Journalistic ethics, stupid. Just 'coz you're my friend doesn't mean I can cut you some slack."

Rukia tuned out Renji's spluttering (_ethics my ass! more like yellow journalism!_) and instead quietly asked, "brother? Did you have any ideas on how to proceed?"

Even from a sitting position, Byakuya seemed to be able to look down at her. "Yes, we can start with you calling me by my proper name." He motioned towards his friend. "Jushiro here, with his connections in school, has already listed all the ideas and possibilities. You need only to approve them."

"Oi, Kuchiki," interjected Toushiro. "You may be council president, but you're not the president in this little club here. If I'm going to be potentially humiliated because of these idiots here, I'd like to have a more direct say in _how_ I'm going to be committing social suicide."

"Huh, you really don't have any problems, Hitsugaya," called out Shuhei. "From all the surveys, you have a pretty big fangirl base in school here. We just need to put you up as an auction item. That'll keep them entertained."

(_Hisagi, are you interested to know what gonzo journalism is? on a student-is-beaten-to-death kind of story?_)

"Huh, well, if you think about it, that would probably rake in the most cash," said Jushiro thoughtfully, while eyeing his clipboard notes. "Although…" he continued, looking up at everyone else, "…if _everyone_ here were to be some sort of entertainment escort–"

"Ukitake-senpai, if I may," interrupted Rukia, "I think Principal Yamamoto's exact words were for all of us to work on making the Masque Ball tonight a success, since it has recently seen a decline in student participation."

"Exactly, Rukia sweetie!" exclaimed the white-haired man brightly. "And what better way to ensure success than to stir up some teenage hormones? That's what the whole fashion industry is built on."

Everyone blinked, and attempted to formulate a reply. Jushiro, however, was already on a roll, and was going on and on about 'using the school garden maze' and 'setting up escort auctions' and 'coordinating the costumes.'

"And of course, the ultimate prize of the Ball must be a dance with our little Rukia here."

"Excuse me?"

"The only woman in the group, the one that seemed to attract all these divergent personalities (-_whattaya mean attracted? the violent midget kicked me!_ -_you are mistaken, Jushiro, I'm merely protecting my pride_ -_for the last time, I did NOT grope her!_ -_this is completely irrelevant, and no I am NOT blushing, it's just too hot for me in here_), and the famous dance prodigy. Who can resist?"

Rukia was speechless. _This must be a joke!_ The look in Jushiro's face was amused, but definitely firm.

He tapped his clipboard and held it up for everyone. "And before anyone else complains, here's a written edict from Yamamoto himself, stating that I have final control on the details. By midnight tonight, he will decide on whether he will lift our possible suspensions based on the Masque's success."

Rukia glanced at the wall clock, an antique theatrical one that depicted 13 hours instead of the usual 12. "That gives us 13 hours, then." (Manga Laws of Physics #2: The observed attraction between characters warps space and time, resulting in the most ridiculous scenes)

She sat down with a sigh and started flipping through the manga in her hand. While the rest of the group ganged up on Jushiro, Shuhei quietly came up to her, and asked offhandedly, "so what are you doing?"

The manga was about a place called Ouran, and the page opened to a drawing of a large room filled with confusing and vertigo-inducing stairs. Rukia quirked an eyebrow at him, and muttered darkly, "studying, what else? It looks like I don't have much time to learn my FAQs."

1010101010101010

Two similar doors faced her, with a bronze knight doorknocker on each one. A clock somewhere chimed the time.

"What's with the two doors? And the medieval doorknockers?"

She started as she turned to the voice that spoke. Ichigo came up behind her, and upon seeing her, abruptly scratched the back of his neck like he had neck herpes. "From Ukitake-senpai's flyer, it's an old knight-and-knave puzzle. Traditionally, one door leads to your death, and the other leads to your freedom. The knights are supposed to help, but one says true things and the other says only lies." She looked at the flyer in her hand again. "Although it seems like both doors just open to different paths in the garden maze. And what the hell is wrong with you?"

"N-nothing!" muttered Ichigo, looking at everywhere but Rukia. "Um, you look, er, you look pret- decent! Pretty decent, yeah!"

Rukia sighed. Byakuya, inexplicably, had left her a couture box from the famous Uryu Ishida. She had thought that the dress, called Quincy White, was beautiful. It was a curious combination of creamy silk and ivory taffeta, so that with each movement, shadows and light seemed to ripple over her body. The bodice and skirt cascaded loosely and yet clingingly, to allow her plenty of movement. And true to the Masque Ball's costume requirement, a pair of butterfly wings tapered down the whole length of her back, lustrous with silver and ebony glitter. _I probably do not do it any justice_.

"A-anyway, we should probably get going." Ichigo looked above her head. "Did you want me to, I mean, I could, you know," he took a deep breath and said in a rush "takeyouinsidetothedance."

Rukia looked up at him curiously. He was wearing a formal black tux, complying with Jushiro's specifications. "We might as well go in and get it over with." She then smiled as understanding dawned, "don't worry about it too much though, you'll be fine. From what I've seen of you, you can handle anything thrown at you."

Ichigo just blinked at her. He then smiled and nodded towards the doors, "take your pick then."

They navigated the English-style garden maze, using the party flyer as a guide. When they arrived at the center of the maze where the ball was being held, Ichigo was immediately seized by a smiling Jushiro (_put on your mask already, you're up for the auction block first_).

"Hah, it's really not fair."

Rukia turned towards Shuhei, who walked over to her. "What's not fair, Shuhei?"

"You're about to devastate the male population of the school, and I can't even cover the story on how you did it."

She tsked, fighting the blush that threatened to cover her face. "I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about." She raised an eyebrow as she said, "and Hanataro is probably going to cover it better than you. He at least knows how to avoid sensationalist journalism."

He smirked in reply. "As cold as a Kuchiki can be." He turned as he heard raucous laughter behind him. "Looks like someone's found the spiked punch."

She drew her eyebrows in sudden suspicion. "You didn't just-"

"Rukia, despite my appearance, I'm an advocate for justice. I wield the two-edged scythe of journalism to report the truth on this very conservative student body. It is a power I both fear and respect. Do you really think that I would spike the punch just to be able to report on the resulting chaos?"

Rukia tapped her foot twice, waiting patiently. Shuhei started sweating profusely.

"I think it's my turn to play the guitar for our guests. I'll, er, see you soon?" he said as he started edging away, without seeming to hurry.

Rukia made a mental note not to drink any punch, and instead settled on eyeing the towering strawberry cake in the middle of the dining table. She was so engrossed she almost missed Renji, standing by the table in his assigned server spot. His cheeks had colorful spots as red as his hair, and his eyes had a glaze as clear as vodka. _Oh-oh, someone's been at the punch a lot_.

"Ruuukia. I gotsh, I mean," he breathed in deep, "I gotta tell you sumshing."

"Renji, you might want to sit down and drink some water for a bit." She held up a hand to help him down, instead he roughly took her proffered arm and pulled her close to him.

"You have reaaaalllly big eyesh."

"The better to see your drunkenness with?"

"Your hair's reaaaallly black an' shoft."

"The better to block your drunken breath with?"

"And your mouth, your mmmmooou-"

"That better not be your hands on a Kuchiki, Abarai," intoned a looming Byakuya, "otherwise you may find something sharp to hold it with."

Rukia smoothly disengaged from Renji's grasp and pushed the redhead to sit down, incoherent from profusely apologizing (_not groping, not groping!_), even more than the alcohol would have caused. _Goodness, you'd think I was the big bad wolf the way he got so flustered_.

She glanced at the coldly disdainful noble. She wanted to ask Byakuya why he interfered, why he left her the dress, why he was always saving her.

Before she could utter a single word to him, however, he had withdrawn, distant and unreachable as the heavens. As always.

"Rukia, it's time." Jushiro walked up to her, holding a hollow crystal ball filled with pieces of paper. "I must say, though, looking like that, the party is already a success."

She shyly smiled up at him as she pulled a piece of paper from the crystal ball, and said, "you are too kind, Ukitake-senpai. Here's the name of my dance partner for tonight."

He read the paper, and Rukia noted with alarm that his eyebrows had illicitly climbed up his forehead. "Well, well, it says Toushiro Hitsugaya just won the dance from you."

Waves of protest sounded throughout the room. One person was conspicuously silent, however. Rukia glanced at him, standing in one corner. It seemed like winter had breathed on his face, it was so white and pale. His eyes, however, betrayed his growing agitation.

_This is just a dance, why are you so mad?_ She walked up to him, much like that first day. When she was right in front of him, she tilted her head to one side. "Do you know how to dance?"

"That's irrelevant. The point is that I don't _want_ to."

"You're being childish."

"That was completely uncalled for. And I am not a child!"

"You're raising your voice. You might want to use your inside voice."

"If you keep persisting in this vein, you may find exactly how old I can get."

"This conversation is _already_ getting old." Rukia barely kept herself from rolling her eyes. Everyone was watching them, and years of training was finally surfacing, forcing a public mask on her face. "Consider this as our coming-of-age, if you like. We grow up and accede to everyone that we have to do as they say. We can't always do what we want."

Toushiro was merely silent as she raised her hand, palms up, to him.

"Are you good at spinning?"

He smirked at her. "I'm considered the champion."

"Good, because we're about to go in circles around them."

They danced.

Behind Rukia, two costumed figures stood, a knight and a knave. One was saying something softly to the other, sibilant in its intimation, while the other laughed gently. If Rukia had been listening, she would not be able to tell which one was telling the truth, and which one was trapping her with a lie. (Manga Laws of Physics #1: For every Hero/Heroine, there is an equal and opposite Villain). A clock started counting the time.

* * *

><p><em>AN: This was a long chapter, mainly because I had originally planned to stop at chap 1, but due to the nice reviews (thanks!), I decided to continue it. Which meant that I had to plan the outline of the story, which meant a set number of chapters (numbers ARE a theme in the story), which meant all these events were crammed in this one chap. I just thought all the elements fit very well with the main theme of this chap (the title of Mask), and could not be split. On a separate note, when I pictured the six boys waiting for Rukia in a schoolroom, I realized with a start how they were like a negative print of the Ouran Host Club boys. Seinfeld would have called them the Bizarro to Superman. Byakuya fits as Tamaki, being the pampered royals that they are, but his cold disdain is such a complete opposite to Tamaki's characteristic neediness. Jushiro as the vice-president Kyoya? Can totally see how he has connections to everyone (badge patrol?), but his endearing fatherly attitude is again polar opposites with Kyoya's calculating 'motherly' one. And don't even get me started with Ichigo and Renji as the twins Hikaru and Kauru. I mean, they've both got colorful hair, their rapport is much closer to that of equals, and let's face it, just like the twins, their challenging interactions with each other is pretty homoerotic, except of course theirs involves violence versus the twins is more tenderness. Shuhei is quiet for most of the time, which earned him his Takashi mirror (besides their similar looks). And Toushiro? I don't even need to go into why he's Honey in a flipped-over world, grumpy instead of sweet, mature instead of childish. There're other cultural references in this chap also, but I wouldn't want to spoil it by telling you all of them (psst, one's Labyrinth). I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did!<em>


	4. Chapter 4: Crack

_AN: One of the things I love about Kubo is his use of poetic symbolism and double meanings. I tried (very veeeery) hard to incorporate that into this story (thank you! thank you! to the reviewer that noticed – you know who you are), because I am borrowing his characters after all. For this chapter, the title refers to the crackfic genre, since it would be aping scenes from several movies. Quentin Tarantino is a (brilliant) master at borrowing film scenes and making it his own (although I can't use any of his scenes, since that would probably push the rating to M++). And, like him, I will be listing out my references at the end of the chap. Of course, the word crack also has another shade of meaning, which the chapter should reveal._

* * *

><p>"Let me tell you what Greensleeves is about," the orange-haired youth addressed the five other boys sitting around the diner table. All of them were wearing dark suits and ties, making them unaccountably mature-looking despite their fresh, innocent faces. "It's about a woman wrongly perceived to be promiscuous. It's a metaphor for the whole sexual objectification of otherwise pure women."<p>

"No, no, that's pretty gay coming from you," the boy with the '69' tattoo interjected, ignoring the other's spluttering response. "It's about King Henry VIII and how he was trying to woo the commoner Anne Boleyn, right? And she rejected him?"

"That is incorrect, Hisagi, and typical of your sensationalist, commoner tabloid-reporting style." This was from the aristocratic, black-haired youth. "The song is obviously Elizabethan, with an Italian renaissance composition rhythm."

"I thought that the word 'green' in that era, when applied to women, was in reference to grass stains on a woman's gown who had just 'rolled in the hay' outside, attesting to her so-called immorality?" responded a genial-looking white-haired man. "So that would support Ichigo's theory."

"_Tsk_. You guys talk too much about women," drawled the redheaded delinquent-looking boy, with both his elbows resting on the chair behind him.

"From that ad in the paper today, you're the one that's got women on his mind." scowled a white, spiky-haired boy. "Anyway, isn't the song you're talking about actually called What Child Is This?"

Five pairs of eyes looked at the youngest looking member of the group, who, from his reddening face, had realized his mistake.

"If any one of you cracks _one_ joke about being a child…" seethed Small White.

Big White spoke up then, "now, now, Toushiro, we all still have to get along together. After all, we still have to meet with little Rukia later to plan out the Masque Ball for tonight."

"Hah! This whole punishment thing is stupid," snapped Orange. "I know I've only been here for a little over a year, but I always thought these dances were lame."

This earned him a cold glare from Morose Black. "Despite your discourteous and uncivilized attitude, you should bear in mind that Principal Yamamoto has his reasons for wanting to increase student participation in school activities. There is a growing atmosphere of ennui and apathy in school, which he knows to be inappropriate traits in students that are likely to lead the country."

"But that's just the thing, Kuchiki," interrupted Spiky Black. "Society is asking too much of these kids. They're all expected to follow rules, become robots, and when they do become highly-productive, non-questioning, manic-depressive members of society, we look at them and ask 'What happened?'"

Red snickered, "someone should just get all these tight-asses good and drunk." He did not see Spiky Black glancing at him with an expression of interest.

"We should probably get going if we want to make it in time for the meeting with Rukia. Can everyone take care of their own tip?" Big White smiled brightly at everyone, and started getting money from his own wallet.

Everyone started taking cash out and throwing bills on the counter. Everyone except for Red.

"What's wrong, Abarai, you're not tipping?" asked Short White.

Spiky Black snickered. "Nah, Renji doesn't believe in tipping waitresses."

"Listen, I'll only tip if the service is really great, but getting a mug of coffee and three refills is just them doing their job."

Orange quirked an eyebrow as he retorted, "so what's a good job, then? Them sitting on your lap, letting you grope them while refilling your coffee six times?"

There was a brief scuffle as the two wrangled with each other, which the rest of the group blithely ignored. Long Black left the tip amount that Red should have given. It was, after all, expected of him as the student council president. Short White just harrumphed off.

The waitress, observing all of this from behind the counter, finally came around to collect the dishes and the controversial tip after the boys had left. She looked through the window and saw all six boys – dark suits, dark ties, and now, dark sunglasses – walking along the sidewalk. She could almost swear that they were walking in slow motion. _Huh, must be a new trend to walk like someone's filming you_.

1010101010101010

Toushiro could not believe it.

But no, everyone was looking at him, so it must be true. The name picked out of the crystal ball to be Rukia's dance partner for the night was his. _I didn't even submit my name to this stupid contest!_

He looked around at the ballroom, an airy, arched building in the Greek temple style, without any walls, allowing him to see the carefully manicured snowy landscape outside. _Huh_, he thought, _Ukitake certainly went all out, it looks like either a lion or a witch can come out anytime_. He thought of how he liked the matching winter decorations in the room. In fact, he tried to think of everything except the petite raven-haired girl slowly approaching him.

However, like planetary objects gravitating towards a heavenly body, he could not keep his eyes from being riveted towards her. She was breathtaking. The intermittent moonlight that filtered in through the open arches seemed to glide over her body, catching your gaze to one spot, and then another, teasing in its secrets and promises. The butterfly wings on her back even suited her, with her delicate, dream-like beauty.

"Do you know how to dance?"

He started and almost cussed. He was so engrossed in how she walked (_it's so graceful, she's like walking in slow motion_) that he said the first thing he could think of. "Sure, but the question is, do I wish to?" He was only thankful that he did not sound like a petulant child.

Rukia did not seem to think so, however, since she accused him of being childish.

"Listen here, Kuchiki, need I remind you that technically, I am _your_ senior, since you're just the new transfer student."

He saw her barely suppress rolling her eyes, which inexplicably made him want to laugh. When a mask seemed to cover her face and veil her thoughts from him, however, his sudden mirth turned into something else, something that a corner of his mind whispered as _regret_. "We need to accede to everyone that we have to do as they say. We can't always do what we want."

_No, you don't always have to follow rules_, he wanted to cry out to her,_ if it's making you so sad and closed off from everyone else who wants to know you_. But he snapped his mouth shut. He was the last person that could say such a thing.

"Are you good at spinning?" she asked as she held her hand to him, imploringly.

He was taken aback at the sudden change of topic. He was good at spinning tops, sure, and he said so to her as he took her hand, but what did that have to do with this?

"Good, because we're about to go in circles around them."

He suddenly realized that she meant a different kind of spinning.

If Toushiro needed to come up with a word to describe her dancing, it would be _magical_.

Rukia, in a rhythm that seemed to echo the dance of the stars, would raise a hand and let go of his other one, weaving to his side, gliding so smoothly it seemed she did not take a single step. He would spin around, subconsciously seeking her, and she would comply with coming back and taking his other hand.

Repeat.

The music was a haunting, stately paced ballad, wooing the listeners to fall into its embrace. _It's What Is A Youth_, he realized with some irony. The musicians would tone down the pitch, and then pick it up again in the next meter.

Repeat.

"You're supposed to say something."

He quirked an eyebrow at her, slightly jarred at the change in the hypnotic movement. "Really? I didn't think a dance is the best time for conversations."

She muttered something about learning it from a manga, but he thought he misunderstood. "When's the best time then? Any other time you're unsociable, cold and grumpy. You could almost be my brother, if you didn't have that temper."

He snorted. "I don't think there is enough arrogance left in the world for someone to be like him."

"But you're just as proud, though. Proud in your achievements. Although," she cocked her head to the side, as she turned on the ball of her feet, balanced and graceful, "you're angry at the same time."

"You learned all that from just two days of knowing me?"

She smoothly glided through a demi-pointe, ivory leg flashing and extending out of her skirt, teasing everyone with a look. "It's your eyes. You still can't hide your thoughts behind your eyes."

He was irritated. He wanted to tell her that _she_ should be hiding other parts of her body. He did not think about how he himself had looked at her leg. "I'm not angry. I hope next time I can show you exactly what kind of person I am."

He heard her breath hitch as she spun around to face him. The room and the people in it seemed to fade out of his vision. He realized that, contrary to his own _unsociable_ character, he just asked to spend more time with her, to talk again with her.

Repeat.

They stepped away from each other and bowed in the medieval style. The room and all the people in it came back into focus for him, as they all applauded. He couldn't believe that they got over the dance with such ease. He turned back to her to thank her for making it look like he could dance, but her expression was closed off again as she nodded regally and walked away. _What happened to the girl who talked during dances and sneakily flashed her leg?_

"That was awesome!" It was Hisagi, grinning behind him. "Hanataro's got the whole thing on film. It's up on the school ustream channel."

He turned to the so-called journalist, and tried to summon up a glare. The memory of violet eyes teasing him was interfering, though. "Go away, Hisagi, before I start asking Matsumoto to beat you up. And you _know_ she can beat you."

He walked away from Hisagi to stand outside the building, reveling in the cold air and the snow under his feet. He looked up at the heavens, and saw a crack through the moving clouds to reveal the moon.

Toushiro then realized something else. If there were another word to describe her dancing, it would be _free_. He wished he could see that freedom from constraints in her more often.

He went back inside the building, intending to tell her so.

1010101010101010

"Sir Byakuya, your bath is ready."

He stood up from his last stomach crunch for the morning, and dismissed the maid. Due to his name and status, he was required to maintain the highest levels of health and hygiene. Nobles were in the spotlight all the time, and should act like they are constantly being watched, being caught on film. Because of this, he would rigorously follow a daily routine.

While in the spacious bathroom, he would apply on a deep pore cleanser lotion (ReVive, $650 per ounce). In the bath, he would use a water-activated gel cleanser (Kanebo Sensai, $500 per ounce), then a honey scrub (Valmont, $490 per ounce). For his hair, he would use Alterna products only ($750 per ounce for shampoo, $890 per ounce for conditioner). Once out of the shower, he would apply a facial conditioning masque (N.V. Perricone MD, $1,000 per ounce), which he would leave on for ten minutes while he finished his routine.

Dressed in a demurely elegant dark suit, he then proceeded to breakfast.

"Good morning, brother."

He looked up from his plate of exotic fruits and whole-grain toast, striving to hide the flutter of _something_ in the pit of his stomach as Rukia entered the room, changing his routine of quiet, solitary mornings. He did not like at all how she called him brother, but he could not explain why.

Instead, he resolved to turn back to his breakfast after nodding his acknowledgement to her.

She must have been still sleepy or disoriented, though, because she commented in an off-hand way, "you look very nice."

He raised an eyebrow as he looked back at her. "Nice?"

She must have realized the inappropriateness of her compliment, because she started babbling, "er, I mean, like those models in the magazines, you know, they have pictures of them all over the place, although Nanao once said they were fake, that they're really just air-brushed-"

"Rukia," he forcefully kept down the bubble of mirth that was about to surface on his face, "are you saying I am air-brushed?"

Her eyes were as big as saucers, no, as big as dinner plates. "N-no, not at all!" She looked away, then, "forgive me, bro-"

"I have asked you to refrain from addressing me as brother. I do not wish to repeat myself." He looked at his plate again. "We are, after all, only adoptive siblings."

He stood up, intent on leaving the room. Distance was, after all, his armor, his protection. Years of training would not allow him to put a dent on this armor, to cause a flaw in its perfection. He refused to address the question why Rukia, of all people, can have this effect on him.

When he saw her again during the Masque Ball, after Hisagi had pointed her out to him, she was being held close by a highly intoxicated Abarai. An inexplicable flash went through him, and he was cognizant enough to realize it as cold rage.

He walked slowly over to them, intending only to listen. This was no business of his. He did not allow a trace of fury from escaping, as he heard Abarai spout words about Rukia's eyes and hair. When he started talking about her mouth, however, he decided to interfere. _She is a Kuchiki, she cannot be seen consorting with such_.

"Abarai, I believe it is time for you to let go. You are about to fall down and hurt yourself." He inwardly nodded. _There_, he thought, _neutral and not at all seemingly possessive_.

Rukia proceeded to try to calm down the besotted plebian. When she looked at him, though, questions in her eyes, he suddenly realized that he was standing too close to her. They were nearly toe-to-toe. Near enough to touch.

He nearly hissed in surprise. It was thanks to an abrupt turn that he was saved from completely humiliating his name and station.

He walked away, ignoring the sudden roar of the crowd. _Rukia must be dancing already_, he thought, picturing her within the arms of another. He had let a young girl within his reach once, and was roughly castigated for it. After that, he swore he would always follow his family's edicts, no matter how much his arms longed to hold that girl again.

Distance was his armor, his protection. Like a circle that enveloped him, it did not allow needless emotions to penetrate, like hurt or mirth or pleasure or pain.

But now, that armor has a crack, and he did not think he could repair it.

He stirred as he heard sirens, slightly frowning at the impertinent interruption.

1010101010101010

"Why the fuck did I end up being the waiter?" demanded Renji to an amused Shuhei. "Ichigo is gonna be strutting for the Date Auction, and I end up serving? He's gay anyway!" Renji was itching to throw something at anyone, and he wanted to start with the stupid music band dressed in alien costumes, striking up a jaunty tune that just grated on his nerves. _Where the hell do they think they are? Tatooine?_

"It's because of what you said at the diner, man. Ukitake figured you needed to see the other perspective." His pain-of-an-ass friend sniggered, and mumbled something about also avoiding sexual harassment lawsuits. "So the idea is you get points based on the amount of tips you get."

He glared at him, and growled, "you do know these rich fucks, except for Kuchiki over there, are really cheaper than normal people."

Shuhei's snigger graduated to a chuckle. "You're gonna have to try reaaaaallly hard in the quality of your service then. To help you out, why don't you offer everyone a drink from the punch bowl? That should make them tip you more."

"Why? What the hell did you do?"

"Nothing! I got the recipe from you, actually. Why don't you try it out and see for yourself?"

Renji eyed him menacingly, and retorted. "Fine, I might as well sample if I'm going to serve this shit."

After that, all he remembered was a fuzzy blur.

It seemed like he was watching everything in slow motion, with everyone standing so still that they looked like they were posing for a film shoot instead. Like a snapshot of a memory. In one corner, he saw himself and Hisagi, drinking glasses of punch, with a line of spilled drink seemingly frozen from the glass he was holding.

He rotated his head to another corner, to see himself and Hisagi again, with his arm on a busty blond who was cocking her arm back and clenching a fist, his punch glass again frozen in the act of spilling its contents.

He rotated his head again, not the least bit surprised to see himself and Hisagi, this time with him cocking his arm back, clenching his fist, as he seemed about to pummel a weird old guy with a long white beard, spilling his drink in the process, the stream still frozen.

He rotated his head for the last time, and finally something penetrated through the fog in his head, as he saw himself standing on a table, back to the camera, looking to the side and cackling with mad glee at Hisagi. The frozen stream of spilled liquid this time was not coming out of his hand, but was originating from further south, down, down, down, just below his stomach, and _Oh Shit!_ dripping right into the punch bowl.

At this point, he fell and cracked his head.

He stood up blearily, aware that Hisagi was no longer with him. _That fucker, he must have spiked the punch. I should tell Rukia not to drink it._

Like an answer to his long-held goals, he saw her standing in front of him, a curious look of want crossing her face. _Finally, I can tell her everything_, he breathed with a sigh of relief. _From that look in her eyes, maybe she feels the same way too?_

"Rukia, I need to tell you something," he boldly said to her. _That's right, confidence is the key, that and some good ol' style_. He's glad that he had gotten over whatever was in the punch.

She smiled brightly at him, lavender eyes sparkling, kindly and solicitous in asking about his health. He could howl with happiness right now, that was how incredibly pumped up he was. The image of a wolf baying at the stars reminded him of the story of the girl that brought food to her grandmother. He wanted to tell her that she had been like that for him, except of course, he didn't want her to see him as elderly.

Before he could tell her about their time in Inuzuri together, however, a cold wind seemed to bite at his shoulder. He turned around to see Byakuya, a controlled anger leaking out of his eyes.

"Do you wish to spar, Abarai?" _Aah, that was it_. He had probably heard about his scholarship for kendo, and wanted to test him out, to see if he was worthy of his sister.

He politely smiled at Byakuya. This was Rukia's brother after all. "Sure, I can take you on."

Rukia, kindly and solicitous Rukia, intervened and instead gently led him to a seat. _She's probably worried about me_, he thought, _but I should tell her that I'm strong now, that I can take on even her brother_.

He noticed with alarm and not a little bit of consternation that in the process of helping him, Rukia's arm was around his. _She might think I'm too forward_. He started telling her that he was completely a gentleman, that it was just a misunderstanding, that ad about him groping women.

She turned to speak to her brother, and he lost the opportunity to speak to her. Again.

With a growing feeling of tiredness, he leaned back against the chair and thought over again all the years of hard training to be where he was. So close, and yet still so far. _It doesn't matter_, he mused. _I'll just keep running after you. I'm as stubborn as you were, after all_. He gingerly touched the bump on his head from the painful crack he received after falling off. This was just further evidence of his hard-headedness.

Far away, he heard the sounds of screaming. _This is wrong, that's not fangirl screaming, that's something else_. He started running towards the sound.

1010101010101010

Ichigo, as much as he hated dressing up, still complied with the tearful ministrations of his dad, who hovered over him at breakfast, brand new and expensive tuxedo in hand. It was easier sometimes to just go with it.

He adjusted his jacket as he walked over to the front of the maze, scowl already in prominence at the thought of the night's activities. He eyed the stupid-looking doors, pretending and failing to be Shakespearean in architectural style. "Che, what's with the two doors? And the medieval doorknockers?"

He turned his gaze to the one other figure standing in front of the doors, and his heart nearly skipped a beat. It was Rukia, looking like the very personification of the moon that his English books only hinted at.

Her hair was swept up in a carefully dressed bun, framing her large violet eyes. He had to stop his hand from reaching and taking off the many pins and needles that held her hair up, itching in its need to see her relieved of such contrivances. Instead he crossed his arms nonchalantly as she started spouting something or other about the doors.

"What is wrong with you?" she snapped at him.

He drew his eyebrows together, perplexed that she seemed to see through his discomfiture. "Nothing. What's wrong with you?" He took a deep breath, and decided to go ahead with it. He may be oblivious to these sorts of things, but he knew women at least liked getting compliments. "You look very pretty, by the way."

She turned away, and for some reason, a look of sadness crossed her face. He wanted to take her by the shoulders and tell her that as beautiful and amazing as she was, she could inspire others to do great things for her. She shouldn't look like it was a burden.

He kept his hands crossed, however. They were not friends, they were not lovers. Instead, he scowled down at her, and asked, "anyway, we should probably get going. Did you want me to take you inside to the dance?"

Rukia looked back at him, this time with a slight smile on her face. "Don't worry about it too much though, you'll be fine. From what I've seen of you, you can handle anything thrown at you."

_Che, the midget is worried about me? I should be the one worrying about her!_ He walked ahead, feeling a slow warmth spreading over his body.

They walked along the eerie maze, the shrubbery walls high enough that you could jump and still not see over it. Shadows stole over them, flitting and teasing, like fairies on their quest for stories. It reminded him a little bit of A Midsummer Night's Dream.

"It feels like we're on a quest," she breathed out in a whisper.

"What, we're a fighting duo out to save a world?"

She made a sound close to a snort. "No, more like a quest to save a princess. I'm not surprised you went for the swashbuckling scenario, though. I guess Lisa was right when she implied shounen heroes and readers only applaud violence."

He raised an eyebrow at that, unaware and uncaring on who this Lisa might be, but interested in her response instead. _For a violent midget, it didn't seem like her to go for girly manga, but I guess she's got that soft side to her_. "I don't really like violence. I only fight when I have to, when I'm protecting something."

She smiled wistfully at him, and his heart skipped a beat for the second time that night. "So that's what your name means, then? One who protects."

He looked away abruptly, a searing memory of a still body shielding him, blinding him for a moment. He shook it off and tried to act normally again.

Rukia must have sensed something wrong, though. Walking in-step with him throughout, she softly said, "It must have been something really painful. You don't have to talk about it now." She looked up at him, eyes understanding and compelling. "Once you're ready, then I'll be here to listen."

A shuddering release ran through him then, a comforting feeling that seemed to envelop him. He could not believe how someone, anyone, can have that much of an insight into another person. _She really is weird_, he thought wryly.

When they finally came out, he saw Ukitake standing on one spot of the central garden, with a line of students in front of him. He looked nonplussed and benign despite the number of people hovering around him. Ichigo overheard snapshots of conversations (_…asking…if you could make it so I win…need your help…you should see the strawberry cake I made for you…_) around the white-haired man, and decided it was best to steer clear of him.

"Why are they all asking him for something?" Rukia, as sharp as ever, had caught on as well.

"Because tonight, as the grand ole maitre d' for the party, he couldn't refuse a request. Which is why, before those people start asking for our heads on a platter, we should start moving along."

Rukia eyed him askance. "That's the stupidest tradition I've ever heard."

"Hey, you don't have to tell me twice."

His escape was curtailed, however, as Ukitake collared him away, saying something about an auction.

"You should put on the mask."

"What the hell for?" snapped Ichigo to the bemused white-haired man.

"It'll add some flair for mystery, up the ante a little bit."

He glared at the other man, already regretting his part in this activity. "Fine, just make sure you keep to our deal that I get veto power on who gets the final bid."

Ukitake just smiled and shooed him onstage, effectively cutting off any objections he had left. He stood in the darkness for a moment, until a spotlight was turned towards him, causing him to raise a hand to shield his eyes.

"And here for your viewing pleasure is an orange-headed specimen of the male variety. Muscled in physique, and snarky in attitude, I'd like to start the bid for you ladies at $5. Five dollars now! Don't be shy! This is for charity, remember!"

Ichigo glared at the source of the staccato commentary, barely stopping himself from strangling whoever it was. He turned back to the crowd again, however, when he started hearing squealing. _What the-?_

"Five dollars here!"

"Ten!"

And on it went, the bidding going on at a feverish pace, at one point causing a fight involving a pink-haired girl.

"Three hundred thirty nine and eighty eight cents," called out a voice triumphantly, hushing the entire crowd.

Ichigo took one look at the person and started swearing profusely. _Aww, hell no_. "Veto!"

The person who made the last bid was holding a wallet up, short black hair swaying in the wind, colorful feathers decorating eyebrows, and a most definitely _male_ face peeking flirtatiously at him.

"I guess word's going around that you may be gay," observed Shuhei behind him. Ichigo glared him, seriously considering if he should do as Renji says and just start using the journalist as a punching bag.

"What the hell are you doing here? Shouldn't you be playing a guitar or something? You just seem to be up in everyone's business, aren't you?"

Shuhei only smirked at him. "I was watching Rukia dance. You should have seen it. It was like watching a song unfold. You could almost swear that her movements were in slow motion. She's that good."

He looked away from Shuhei, suddenly remembering Rukia and their walk along the maze. She was delicate and strong at the same time. He knew instinctively that she was someone who would protect you, and who would accept protection as well.

He glanced back at a silenced Shuhei, and noticed how his jaw had dropped. "What the fuck are you looking at?"

"Did I just see a crack of a smile on your face, Mr. I'm Always Scowling?"

_I guess he really is looking to be a punching bag_. He was stopped abruptly, however, by a commotion of students running towards an area of the maze.

He heard Shuhei's sudden intake of breath, and knew that it was not good news. "I thought I saw Rukia walking to that spot by herself not a few minutes ago."

Blood started pounding in Ichigo's head, violent and persistent. He didn't speak, he didn't pause, he just started running frantically towards her.

* * *

><p>* Diner scene – <em>Reservoir Dogs<em>. Okay, I lied. I did use something from Tarantino. I just find this scene hilarious for some reason.

* Different and sometimes contradictory POVs from the four boys in this chapter (and Rukia's in the previous chap) – _Rashomon_. I love (looove) this movie. It skillfully shows that our perception of events is influenced by our own biases and egos. And no, Rukia's POV is NOT the truth, either. The point is that there is no absolute truth when it comes to experiencing reality.

* The music band – _Star Wars IV_.

* The snowy landscape – _The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe_.

* The garden maze – _Pan's Labyrinth_.

* Rukia's butterfly wings costume – _Ever After_.

* Renji's drinking memory – _The Other Guys_ bar scene.

* Ichigo on the auction block – _Groundhog Day_.

* Byakuya dressing up for the ball – _American Psycho_.

* Toushiro conversing with Rukia - _Pride and Prejudice_.

* Music while they were dancing – _Romeo and Juliet (1968 version)_.

* Ukitake listening to people's requests during the ball – _The Godfather_ wedding scene.

* Hisagi spiking the punch – every teen party movie scene I've ever seen.


	5. Chapter 5: Lie

_A/N: The Telephone Game is an old, cross-cultural children's game where one person initiates a conversation with another by whispering something in their ear, and that second person is supposed to pass along the message as intact as possible to a third person. On and on until it comes full circle to the first person. The point of the game is that no matter how hard the players try, there are always mistakes in the final message. It is a way for adults to teach kids that rumors are biased, colored with cumulative errors, that human memory is ultimately unreliable. And then you have those that go out of their way to deliberately spread false gossip._

* * *

><p><em>** Ring. Ring. Ring. **<em>

"Hello?" snapped Ichigo at the phone, hurriedly picking it up as he walked towards school. "Who's this?"

There was no answer at the other end of the line. Disgusted, he slammed the phone shut. He had been edgy since the night before, and he could not deny that it was all because of Rukia. _What's happening to her?_

Before anyone could figure out what was going on, or if she was even _involved_ in last night's incident, the police had locked down on the grounds and had sent everyone home. He had tried calling her and going by her house, but only ended up getting a steely look of disdain from her brother. He had wanted to smash in Byakuya's face so much that he had to physically restrain himself. He needed to get information from the guy, after all. Sending him to the hospital was probably not going to help.

_Shit, no one could even tell me what the incident was, let alone Rukia's place in it._

"I heard she was found in an empty part of the garden maze." Ichigo heard the hurried whisper to his left, and frowned at the two girls that were talking.

"The new transfer student?" replied the other girl. "I heard that there was someone else with her and that-" Their voices faded away from him. Ichigo walked quickly to catch up. He was not the type that would listen in on other people's conversation, but this was collecting information.

"Oh my God, really? But I thought I heard someone on the loudspeakers asking for Hisagi-"

_** Ring. Ring. Ring. **_

Shuhei flipped through his new phone notifications, and tried to suppress a sigh. It was the same kinda shit over and over_. I really should turn off the twitter and facebook app service if all I was going to get is fan wank._

[ OMG you heard about new girl? 0_0 ]

[ :o heard she was dancing with boy wonder ]

[ AYSOS? she was dancing with Ichigo, and then- ]

[ *derp* she was dancing with Byakuya! ]

[ SIWOTI; she was strip dancing in front of everyone ]

[ no, she wz getting freak on with Ichigo + Renji, true story ]

[ no way! heard Ichigo's gay, musta been him with Renji ]

He was there, and he saw Rukia's graceful dance with Toshiro, and the (_very restrained, IMO_) teasing stretch of a balletic leg that raised some very conventional eyebrows. But what he didn't see was what happened afterwards. The only lead he had was that when he ran after a curiously frantic Ichigo, he saw the genial Head of the Disciplinary Committee, I-zee-you Aizen, blocking everyone from a specific spot.

_Maybe I should check the forums to see if other people saw anything else?_

[ karakurizer: fk me, u mean new-grl pwnd foxy smiley? ]

[ spankm3shiro: karakurizer, no x 4 ! u heard wrong, she got pwnd by Hitsu-fangirl ]

[ outofdcloset: ur cray2, she fought off Ichigo who was all over Renji ]

[ renjifan69: hey guys, check out this lemony amv I made of Ichigo and Renji as Shuhei watches them, at http : / viralvideos . com/ichigo_n_renji_up_on_a_tree . html ! ]

After clicking on the link and slowly letting his jaw drop, he decided that probably the first order of business was to initiate damage control and call Renji_._

_** Ring. Ring. Ring. **_

Renji blearily looked at his clock and slowly realized that he was going to be extremely late for school. Through the fog of The Most Horrific Hangover Ever, alarm bells were also ringing through his head, all of which were ominously tolling Rukia's name.

_Shit, what's happening to her right now?_

He got up, noisily made a mess of himself over the side of the bed from the sudden surge of vertigo, and crawled his way to the bathroom. He needed to find out what happened last night, and he needed to look at least human in order to do it.

By the time he reached school, everyone was already entrenched in their little 25x20 academic cells. He was hurrying to his own when he felt a hand touch his shoulder.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't our _little_ Renji."

Renji warily eyed the pink-haired senior, Szayel, as the latter leered at him suggestively. _What the fuck was up with that 'little' word?_

"You look like someone who just did a walk of shame from my room."

"Get. Your. Hand. Off. Me."

"Aww, c'mon," grinned Szayel, "for someone who's in everyone's mouths right now, you're a bit delicate.

Renji tried to think over what the nutjob had just said, and for some reason, whether it was grammatically correct or not, he still felt like he needed to take another shower after hearing him phrase it that way. "What the fuck do you mean, everyone's talking about me?" _Great, I knew Shuhei and his stupid Beware Predator Ad joke would come back and kick me in the balls._

"Well, actually, they're all talking about that little girl you seemed to be so interested in last night. I think she was called Rukia?"

At the mention of Rukia's name from the pervert's mouth, his headache started violently throbbing, leeching all his reason. "You better start explaining before I start pounding your face against the floor," he snarled. He was so incensed that he noticed too late the provocative imagery he just used.

Apparently, Szayel was quicker on the uptake when it comes to double entendres. "My, my, and I thought you were into women, unlike Ichigo. Or do you just like to experiment, like I do? Anyway," he dismissed Renji's spluttering response with an airy wave of his hand, "if you want to see what I'm talking about, I'm hooked into the school's security cameras on my iPad. Check it out for yourself." He took out his tablet and started tapping on it. Another creepy smile flitted through his face as he flipped it around for him to see.

On the tablet screen, Renji saw a grainy image of a group of girls in the restroom, and heard their tinny voices over the device speakers.

Girl 1: I always knew she was a skank. I mean, she's got six boys all over her in that one picture. You know which one I'm talking about?

Girl 2: You're just jealous 'coz your little Shiro-chan was practically groping her in public last night.

Girl 1: Shut the hell up! He so was not! She was just throwing herself at him during that dance, the little slut!

Girl 2: It was probably because she was drunk as a skunk. Someone saw her drinking with that Renji guy.

Girl 3: (sound of flushing, as she comes within view and washes her hands) Now, now, ladies, don't sink to her level by gossiping about her. I mean, seriously, she doesn't even have boobs, how the hell does she attract so much attention?

Girl 2: (giggles) Well, I'm not surprised the Disciplinary Committee Head kept an eye on her last night then. As far as I know, Aizen-senpai is into playing with small, dark-haired girls with flat chests.

Girl 1: Really? I heard there was another-

It was at this point that the red film of rage that was stealing over Renji's sight lifted itself, and he found himself on the ground, on top of Szayel, with his hands choking the other boy's throat.

"U-urk. So you're…into…s&m too?" gasped the pink-haired intellectual.

Renji was standing up and away five paces faster than you can say 'awkward'. "First of all, what kind of sick fucks go to this school? Second, how fucking sick are you that you're getting off on this kinda thing? And third," he couldn't help the note of naivety that laced through his next statement, "what kind of sick school puts cameras in the girls' bathroom?"

Szayel coughed delicately as he stood up and faced Renji, holding a hand against his throat. He raised an eyebrow as he sneered contemptuously, "Why are you so surprised? It's like you haven't been going to this high school. I guess it's just low-class students like yourself that delude themselves into thinking that they have some sort of freedom of will."

Renji did not reply as he watched the other boy start walking away. His thoughts churned as he remembered the young, spirited girl that had helped him to break out of the throttling cycle of poverty.

"You know," Szayel turned around to address him again, unable to resist a parting shot, "all of you are just puppets to someone else, dancing on someone's strings, as they watch over every decision you make. Just accept it and move on."

"Oh?" Renji couldn't help retorting. "And what about you?"

"Me?" Szayel's flamboyant laugh tinkled across to him. "I'm a perfect being! How can I ever be controlled? I'm one of the puppeteers. That's why I'm in the Disciplinary Committee in the first place."

_That was probably the stupidest thing I've heard today._ Turning around in disgust, Renji resolved to talk to someone and find out about Rukia, if he had to go through each and every student. He immediately dismissed going to Byakuya, since he knew the highborn aristocrat was too lofty to approach.

He nodded to himself as he realized he could corner and ask one other person that was close to the Kuchiki family. He would send a text message to Ukitake.

_** Ring. Ring. Ring. **_

Jushiro was startled out of his reverie by the insistent sound. He turned to look out of the window and saw a man on a bicycle weaving his way through the traffic outside. He let out a tired sigh, and returned to his vigil by the door. His lips twitched in a pained smile as he realized that being at the principal's office twice in three days did not bode well for his academic outlook.

His features turned grim, however, as he thought of how Rukia's future was going to turn out after last night's fiasco.

His classmates talked around him, thinking him meek and compliant. He was simply the sickly member of the Student Council, easy to approach and easier still to ignore. Which was how he was one of the first to know about the vicious rumors that were circulating about Rukia.

With the insight that had earned him Principal Yamamoto's respect, he also reasoned out that the other boys in their newly formed 'club' were probably getting alarmed with the news they were receiving about the petite girl.

_Huh, from what I've seen of Ichigo, Renji and Shiro, they're probably breaking down people's doors – if not their heads – to shake out the truth about what happened last night._

He looked towards the doors again, concern marring his face, as he thought of the person inside with Principal Yamamoto.

It's only been three days, but her impact on four very different boys was surprising indeed. _I'd almost think it's a story spun out of Shuhei's so-called 'anonymous' romance columns, if it weren't for the fact that the events are so very real._

He had a vague idea on the origin of Renji's obsession. He knew where Renji originally came from, and he also knew that Rukia was found in the same area. It would not be a great stretch of the imagination that they probably knew each other. Surviving something together, after all, is one of the surest ways to form a lasting bond.

Toushiro acted as an enigma, coldly logical and practical. But he thought that Rukia was able to undermine that façade, just from the video that came out of their dance. His lips twitched in a smile at the vision of them dancing. He thought anyone dancing with Rukia at that point could not help but fall madly in love with her. In Toushiro's case, the shadow of grief, which had always been behind the general contempt in his eyes, seemed to lift a little while he and Rukia were talking.

With Ichigo, he could just as easily have dismissed it as teenage hormones. Boy met girl and destiny followed. However, he knew that Ichigo had barely glanced at the girls in school, and treated everyone with the same scowling distance. He thought it might have been Rukia's suppressed impetuous spark that answered something within the other boy that first day. When he saw them come out of the maze last night, though, he knew that _something else_ had only grown, fueled and nurtured by their continuing interaction.

He shifted his position, discomfiture evident in the direction of his next thoughts. It was ironic that of all the people involved, it was his closest friend that offered the least insight.

_I need to find out exactly what his relationship is with Rukia, and why he's doing this._

He looked at the door again, worry seeping out of every pore. He would approach him delicately, maybe even obliquely, as skittish as he seemed with anything he deemed personal.

Meanwhile, to take his mind off things, he thought of the numerous bids he had received so far on the items he had put up for auction on DateBay. He flipped open his laptop, and nearly grinned. There were 196 hits so far on a date with little Shiro.

_** Ring. Ring. Ring. **_

Toushiro's finger nearly buried itself against the doorbell in his impatience. He was about to break into the house through the window when the door finally opened.

"Who the f-! Hitsugaya! What are you doing here? Don't you have school or something?" Matsumoto was clearly waking up from a bad hangover, dressed in a provocative nightgown, her looks marred only by a very significant line of drool going down one corner of her mouth.

"I skipped classes this morning. You're coming with me today, we need to find out some stuff."

"Awwww, it's my day off today! When are these babies ever going to have their well-deserved rest?" exclaimed Matsumoto, both hands pointing at her chest. "They go through so much every night, after all!"

A vein started throbbing in a corner of Toushiro's forehead. "I really have no time for this type of slapstick, Matsumoto, either you're coming or I'm going by myself."

At hearing the strange tone in his voice, Matsumoto nodded and turned around quickly, all vestiges of drunkenness completely gone. She was walking beside him on the school grounds barely twenty minutes later.

"I saw that video of you and your new girlfriend~~~" As serious as she could be, she still could not help poke in with a little bit of mischief at her grumpy employer.

Toushiro did not reply at first as he tried to order his thoughts in some semblance of logic. He did not need to be emotional at this point. He needed to be reasonable and coldly detached. He was absolutely _not_ the least bit concerned that he had not found anything useful about the events surrounding Rukia the previous night.

"I need some information, and unfortunately, it seems the only ones holding the keys belong to a certain group of people I normally don't associate with."

"Oh, but I do, is that it?"

Toushiro glanced at his assistant (he had refused to call her governess for some years now) from a corner of his eye. He knew that Matsumoto was perceptive, as much as she acted otherwise. But he was glad that she had quickly caught on to the situation, so that he would not need to go too much into detail. _Such as why I'm so bothered in the first place_. "It's the Disciplinary Committee."

A sharp intake of breath was the only indication that she had heard him.

"You know I normally wouldn't ask you to tag along and help me with something from school, but I really do need your help."

She turned around and faced him then, a brilliant smile evident on her face. She knew that admission probably had cost him a lot. "Of course I'll help. Now tell me what it's all about."

"Something happened last night, and no, before you start giggling, I did _not_ lose my virginity," he retorted. He would never, in a million years, show his face to Matsumoto the day after such a thing. She just knew him too well. "The girl I was dancing with was somehow involved, and I think it's against her will."

"Well, isn't she a Kuchiki? It would make more sense to ask By-"

"I have already explored that avenue." His short reply was enough to tell Matsumoto that someone had royally pissed him off.

"I have to ask, though," she threw him a glance, carefully gauging his reaction, "why are you doing this?"

Toushiro knew that she would ask. He should have prepared for it. He should have answered with something like _Because it stinks, and I want to know_, or _I'm your employer, just do what I say_, or even a brash _Who do you think you're talking to?_

Instead, he answered with the first thing that came to his mind. "Because I promised her we'd talk again."

Matsumoto's sudden look of anguish was enough to dispel any lingering doubts about the wisdom of honesty. He mentally shook himself and walked even faster.

They were both silent as they continued in their search, lost in their own inescapable truths.

"If it makes you feel better," Matsumoto chimed, "the blogs are practically teeming with frenzy on a fight scene between a red-haired drunk and the Kuchiki prince."

Toushiro smirked. After getting stonewalled that morning by the haughty aristocrat, he couldn't help feeling some satisfaction that not everything was going well for Karakura Academy's Prince.

"Just this morning, I got something like fifty IMs from people, wanting to know what kind of shampoo that Byakuya-"

_** Ring. Ring. Ring. **_

There was no answer on the other line, causing Byakuya a fair amount of irritation, revealed only from the quick flip of an elegant shoulder to clear an errant strand.

Jushiro was walking beside him, eyes still curious, question still unanswered.

Truthfully, Byakuya did not want to think about the implications on why he was doing this. His curt response to his friend, when asked how old he was when he had first met her, did not encompass the depths of their relationship. The fact that they met at a young age, were separated weeks later, and saw each other only a handful of times since, could not quantify his actions surrounding Rukia.

Jushiro had mentioned that she had some similarity to Hisana.

Byakuya could see the resemblance. However, it had taken him a whole year, and only at the prompting of his grandfather, to realize this fact. His rational mind offered up an explanation, of course, what psychoanalysts referred to as Repressed Desires Theory of Attraction, or the Hansel and Gretel Complex, or the much-maligned Poetic Discourse of Silent Treatment.

Whatever term it was called, he distinctly remembered when he first met Hisana, in contrast to how his mind seemed to avoid thinking about his relationship with Rukia.

He had gone to the hospital to accompany his grandfather, and she had been walking in the halls dressed in an ill-fitting hospital gown. He would have barely glanced over her, being immune to most women's charms, but her large eyes called out to him. He had felt compelled to approach her and to strike up a conversation, constantly questioning the sudden disquiet he felt. It was not until much later that he realized what had drawn him to her.

The look in her eyes was the same one he saw in the mirror, before he had to go out and cloak himself in his name.

After a time, he had started coming to the hospital more frequently, making phone calls, and then after that, meeting in public places. When he had finally invited her to dinner at the mansion, she was met with a nonchalant remark from his grandfather. _She looked very much like our little Rukia_.

He stopped calling her after that.

_I do not want her as my sister_. Such a childish outburst, such an adult conviction. When faced with the difficult decision of starting a benign, fraternal relationship with Rukia or incurring the censure of his family, he instead followed his emotions, for the first and last time in his young life. He swore that in this one thing, he would not abide by his elders. He would not see Rukia as a sister, even if it meant not seeing her at all.

It was with some irony that the path of a single moment of emotional liberation that he had chosen only led him to a much more shackled existence. He could not even turn his attentions to another person, bound as he was to the memory of a young girl's tinkling laughter.

_** This number is currently not responding, please try again **_

"Anything with Rukia?"

A flutter of an eyelid was the only indication that Ichigo's question had taken Byakuya unawares. "I believe I have told you, Kurosaki, that she is no longer your concern." He sat down in the expansive couch of the Third Dance Room and blithely ignored the seething youth.

"Bullshit. I don't fucking believe you. You're her brother, for chrissakes. You're not supposed to act like that towards her!"

"So, nothing yet on Rukia, huh?" called out an apprehensive Shuhei as he opened the club's doors and approached the two.

"This dickhead over here has his mouth tighter than his ass."

"Need I remind you, Kurosaki, that you are here merely at the forbearance of the Principal, who seemed to know your father. I can very easily have your kind of trash thrown out of the school that we largely patronize."

"Are you two still at it?" huffed Shuhei, vainly trying to keep the peace while at the same time trying to video it with his phone. "I got so many reports on a disturbance at the Kuchiki mansion last night, that I was barely able to keep the regular press from sniffing around the school today."

"Oi, newsman, got some news on Rukia?" hollered Renji as he dashed in through the ornate doors and faced its three occupants.

"Er, I think Ichigo was just explaining how Byakuya's being too secretive."

"No, what I was saying was that this fu-"

Shuhei gripped Ichigo in a vise around his neck and clamped down on his mouth with his other hand. "I think you've dropped enough f-bombs to start a nuclear reactor. Now, what about you, Renji? You heard anything about what happened last night?"

Renji glanced at Byakuya with a confused and imploring look, the plea almost clawing its way out of his throat. From the other's shuttered look, however, he knew he would not get any replies. "I heard plenty while going around school today. Some people think I was with Rukia, others think it was Ichigo here, and then others were thinking it was maybe her brother, or Toushiro, or even Ukitake. They're practically throwing her in with everyone except old man Yamamoto."

"Hmm," said Shuhei, "the other parts of the school I got to question seemed to think she had gotten into a bit of a scrap. Whether she had hurt someone, or had gotten hurt herself, depended on who you were talking to."

Ichigo violently heaved his head to the side and threw a wicked elbow against Shuhei, effectively freeing himself. "Is she hurt then? Why are we sitting around here? Where did they take her? To hell with this!" He strode purposefully towards the doors with a grim look, his fists clenched at his sides.

"Ichigo," Renji said softly. The other boy stopped, held by something in Renji's voice. "Running around blindly without some sort of support from other people isn't going to get you anywhere, and it isn't going to help her." He sighed, and glanced at Byakuya, still impassively reclining on the couch. "We need to get together and try to find out what everyone knows, and how everyone can sort this out."

"So everyone's here asking about Rukia, huh," remarked Jushiro, as he walked in on the four boys standing at odds with each other. "Well, I have tea and some pastries, so we can all sit down and chat."

"So you have something to tell us?" demanded Ichigo.

"Aah, no, no, I'm really sorry, Ichigo, the only thing I can report is that people have spoken about how Rukia was trying to start a revolution in the school, and was meeting with the different factions last night to overthrow the dictatorial rules of this place."

"That," replied Renji in a deadpan voice, "is probably the stupidest thing I heard this morning."

"Did they say whether they thought it was a socialist splinter faction, environmental terrorist, religious extremist, or what?" asked Shuhei, as he hurriedly took out his notebook to start scribbling notes.

"They didn't really say, Hisagi," said Jushiro thoughtfully, as he slowly tapped a finger against a smooth chin. "I think I heard something along the lines of using violence to destroy the manifested value system of modern society. Or some such."

"I cannot fucking believe this!" roared Ichigo. "You guys are joking, right? You're taking all of this nonsense crap and just sitting back and listening to this drivel? This is Rukia we're talking about. She would be here, with us, unless something's happened."

"How the hell do you come off thinking you know her better than anyone else in this room?" bit back a glaring Renji. "You've only met her!"

"And what, as opposed to you, who can't even summon the courage to really talk to her?"

"Okay," Shuhei said calmly as he stood between the two bright-haired youths. "I don't really get why I'm suddenly peacekeeper, but do I need to throw your words back at you, Renji, when you said that we all need to cooperate? And Ichigo, how old are you again? You can't always rush into things, you know."

"Ichigo, Renji, I do apologize if you think I am making light of the situation." Jushiro looked each boy in the eye, gravity suddenly weighing down on his shoulders. "I wasn't. My reaction was either to laugh resignedly at all the misinformation that was going around, or to shake people by their shoulders and start demanding that they use some part of their brains." He shrugged. "I chose to laugh."

"So does anyone else have any insightful comments on how to help Rukia?" Toushiro was coldly glaring at all five people in the room, exasperation evident in his stance. "Besides laughing, that is."

"I'm not even going to ask if you heard any news. It's probably along the lines of someone cuddling her, someone hitting her, or someone inciting her." Ichigo looked at everyone else with frustration.

"Well, close enough, actually," snorted Toushiro with disdain. "It was someone framing her."

"Er, excuse me? For what exactly?" questioned Shuhei.

Toushiro waved a hand, indicating his disbelief. "Oh, I ran into some characters. One of them goes by the name of Lisa, long braid and glasses? She was practically frothing in the mouth, trying to tell me that it was all a con, and that it was an elaborate plan on someone's part to frame Rukia. Mentioned something about how it's a key manga element, whatever she was talking about."

"Okay, _that_ was probably the stupidest thing I heard today," said Renji.

"Here's what we know so far as being the absolute truth," said Toushiro, as he counted off his points on his hand. "One, something happened to Rukia last night. Two, it has caused a lot of people to talk about it, much of which is either slightly incorrect or outright false. Three, there is one person in this room who has not spoken yet, and probably knows more than anyone else."

Everyone turned towards the one figure that was sitting down. Byakuya looked at everyone else intently, and something in their gazes must have pushed him towards a decision, because he nodded to himself imperceptibly. He opened his mouth to speak.

"Last night, Rukia was caught in a compromising position with someone, and has been henceforth advised to stay inside the Kuchiki mansion for the duration of her probation for Conduct Unbecoming a Lady."

* * *

><p>Possible reasons this chapter is a month late:<p>

a) I read the reviews, and was overtaken with a feeling of never being able to deserve such comments.  
>b) I was lazy, er, busy.<br>c) I was trying to win $10k by downloading and playing as many iPad games as I can.

Possible reasons this chapter finally made it:

a) I re-read the reviews, and felt more confidence in the storyline.  
>b) I re-read the reviews, and felt really guilty.<br>c) Some other fucker downloaded the 25 billionth app in iTunes and won my $10k.

PS: Byakuya's psychobabble is exactly that, psycho babble. It's a well-calculated dig at my sister who just graduated Psychology, and who has NOT yet reviewed the last two chapters. To the others who cared enough to review, my heartfelt thanks. I do read and re-read each one, by the way. Really helps a lot.


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